Stalking Harry Potter
by Marauders-And-Lily-I-Love
Summary: Draco Malfoy was NOT a stalker. In fact, the word 'stalking' did not even appear in his Highly Extensive Dictionary of Pureblood Words." When Draco is accused of stalking a certain someone, what on earth is the poor Slytherin to do? HPDM SLASH!


**_I hope you like this! It's my first ever Harry/Draco fic so go easy on me ;)! I hope this is okay, and please, remember to review! :)_**

Draco Malfoy was _not_ a stalker.

Nope. No. Never. It was impossible.

Malfoys simply did _not_ stalk people; it was _beneath_ them. In fact, it was the other way around; Malfoys did not stalk people, _people _stalked Malfoys. Because Malfoys were brilliant and powerful and good looking and _deserved _to be stalked. The mere suggestion that a Malfoy was stalking someone was a felony, and the person to put forward this suggestion would die. _Painfully_. The word 'stalking' was not one that appeared in Draco Malfoy's Highly Extensive Dictionary Of Pureblood Words. And he would kill anyone else who decided that it was necessary for the young Slytherin to know their opinion on the matter. Whilst he had still been spluttering over what he was accused of doing, (the horror!) his so-called friends had decided that, no, being a stalker just wasn't enough. Nope, not even _that _would satisfy his greedy and humiliating friends.

No, he was _apparently _a stalker of Harry Fucking Potter.

Didn't he have just the most _amazing _friends?

Outrageous. Simply _outrageous_. In fact, _forget_ outrageous, it was way too mellow a word. No, a word that_ could _be used to describe this whole situation was...was... '_ludicrous'_ or '_preposterous'_ or '_outlandish'_ or, or...well, you get the point.

It was a large, nonsensical pile of _drivel_.

Utter bollocks.

_Stupid_.

What was even worse, Draco simply couldn't bring himself to sit there in the common room with four pairs of eyes trained solely upon him. All with the same look of complacency. It was simply too much for him.

"_Wha-? Y-you think I... __**s-s-stalk... Harry Potter?!**__"_

"_I don't think, I __**know**_."

"_B-but I...__**don't**__."_

"_You do! All you do is watch him; at breakfast, at lunch, during dinner, in the hallways, in the less-"_

"_Enough!"_

"_Drac-"_

"_I do __**not **__stalk Harry Mother Fucking Potter! End of story!"_

Draco _did not stalk _him; **no**, he did _not_ know that Potter always had toast and strawberry jam in the morning and that he'd always wrap two sausages in a napkin to save for later before he left the hall. He also did _not _know exactly how Potter walked and he most definitely did _not _practise walking like that in front of his mirror. The way that Potter wrote was also completely new to him and he would _not _be able to recognise his writing anywhere.

In fact, Draco had been so offended by this sudden onslaught of accusations, that for the sake of his sanity he had decided to flee to his haven, the Room of Requirement. Yes, he did rather like the Room; he could do whatever he wanted in there... and generally what happened in the Room, stayed in the Room.

Little did he know that the Room wasn't just a sanctuary for _him_.

-----------------------------------------

He burst into the Room, panting.

_I just need somewhere to hide... to think..._

It was perfect; a nice, warm, cosy fire, one armchair and two sofas, a large table, a bookshelf, a hot messy haired young man, a door-presumably leading to a bathr-

Wait.

What?

Draco's platinum blond head snapped back towards the sofa his silver eyes had flicked past. Seated on the one closest to the fire was Harry Potter... who was staring at him with wide emerald eyes. As though Draco had grown a second head...

The two young men stared at each intently for a few long seconds, the tension in the air crackling and spitting uncomfortably. Dammit, Draco just couldn't catch a break, could he? Harry Potter, the very same (and _not _in the least bit hot) guy the blond had been accused of stalking that very same day, was here. In _his _hidey-hole.

Ugh.

Stupid Harry Potter.

Well, hmphf, but Draco Malfoy would be damned before he let his arch enemy drive him out of _his _special place. So, bracing himself, he began to walk as nonchalantly as possibly towards the sofa opposite his _supposed _'stalkee'.

He sat down carefully, feeling as though making too much noise would result in an explosion none of them could be bothered to experience. So. They sat there. In complete and utter silence. The Gryffindor was staring at the Slytherin, and judging by the expression on his face, he was probably wondering whether Draco needed a trip to a mental hospital. After all, it wasn't everyday in which a Malfoy willingly sat less than a metre away from a Potter.

The quietness was overwhelming. And, to be honest, Draco was getting fed up. It was so boring; and because he had an intruder (again, Stupid Harry Potter) he couldn't even pace around the room ranting maniacally to himself and then throw things at the walls. And this, added to the previous allegations of stalkerdom, put even more pressure on his rapidly melting brain and caused him to burst out:

"I _don't_ stalk you, you know."

Harry's- no _Potter's _head snapped up and again, a shocked expression graced his face. The messy haired head cocked to the side, full lips parted and eyes wide.

"Huh?"

Draco's brain caught up with his mouth and he decided quickly that he should probably shut it. Crap. No. _Must revert back to Mean-Grumpy-Malfoy-That-Harry-Potter-Hates._

"None of your business, Potter." Draco sniped, silver eyes flashing. Potter frowned, looking thoroughly and almost..._adorably _confused.

"Fine." Potter replied sharply, (probably deciding that Draco wasn't worth his precious time) turning his head to stare back into the fire. Draco followed his line of sight, mesmerised by the dancing flames of the fire. Vaguely he wondered why Potter wasn't leaving...

Draco's gaze landed on Potter's face, eyes following the strong jaw, the long, thin nose, the achingly high cheekbones and the full lips. After staring at the Gryffindor for what felt like hours, he gasped- _what the hell was he doing?!_

Merlin, he was going crazy. He had _not_ just been staring at Harry Potter. Harry Snotty Potty.

Nope. Of course he hadn't been. No, no, _no. _Staring at Harry Potter was not going to help _at all _whilst formulating his argument against his Slytherin friends. _Must. Stop. Staring._

Unfortunately for him, Draco's gasp had drawn Potter's attention once again and they were now sitting in that familiar silence with that familiar electricity in the air.

As much as Draco wanted to escape this bloody place, his pride was just too damn controlling. He would not be the one to leave first; this was _his_ den. Potter didn't belong here. Potter had to leave first.

"This is so stupid." Potter finally muttered, holding his head with his hands.

_Worst insult possible, worst insult possible, worst insult possible. Come on, Draco, insult him!_

"_You're _so stupid."

_Ugh. Pathetic._

Potter raised an eyebrow, staring at him condescendingly, probably thinking about how utterly un-insulting Draco's insult was.

"What did you mean before?" Potter asked, ignoring Draco's brooding expression.

The blond boy's eyes widened almost comically. _Oh come on! Don't do this to me!_

"What do _you _mean?" Draco replied smoothly.

"The whole 'I don't stalk you' business." Curiosity and determination was set into Potter's face as he snuggled deeper into the sofa, staring at Draco expectantly.

"Nothing." Draco insisted, making eye contact with the messy haired young man, as if to prove that Harr- _Potter _was simply going crazy.

"So," Potter ploughed on, "you stalk me, eh?"

Draco's mouth dropped open and he choked. "What?! No!"

A cheeky grin was playing at the corner of Potter's mouth, his eyes fixed on the Slytherin's face. That alone was slightly disturbing; it was a rare and almost unprecedented event when a Gryffindor actually _grinned _whilst in the presence of a Slytherin.

"But you just said..." Potter trailed off, his grin widening at the expression of horror on his enemy's (?) face. Draco was starting to think that Potter was just doing this to piss him off. Typical.

"I said _nothing_, Potter." The Slytherin sneered, trying desperately to keep his panic in check.

"Obviously," the messy haired young man continued, "I've been stalked before... but I've never had a male stalker... let alone a _Slytherin _one..." he chuckled lightly to himself.

"I _do not stalk you_!" Draco's voice had risen to an unnatural pitch.

"Keep telling yourself that." Potter smirked, "I'm just... y'know _innocently _walking down a corridor and when I turn around, you're just standing there, _staring_ at me. Haven't you noticed? You know, you do it in the corridors-"

"_... in the hallways..."_

"- in the Great Hall..."

"_...at breakfast, at lunch, during dinner..."_

"...in Transfiguration and Charms and..."

"_Enough!"_

"Shut up!" Draco yelled, red staining his cheeks. _He did NOT stalk Potter and that was __**it**_!

"...It's actually quite creepy." Potter finished, completely unperturbed by Draco's anger, smile widening even further. Unfolding his long, slender limbs he pushed himself off of the sofa and walked over to Draco's sofa, seating himself next to the Slytherin.

Draco edged away.

Potter moved towards him.

Draco shuffled further back.

Potter copied him.

Draco finally attempted to escape, leaping up off of the sofa and then letting out a rather un-manly shriek when he was pulled back down by Harr-_Potter's_ hand on his arm. Said hand shot sparks up his arm and he pulled away abruptly, falling back onto the cushions.

Suddenly, Harry's face was in front of his and he was obscuring his vision and _oh God those eyes_ and he **needed** to go, **needed** to leave, **needed** to get the _hell out of here!_

"You're stalking me."

"N-no I'm not!"

"You're stalking me."

"Shut up!"

"Stalker."

"I-"

"Stalker!"

"Potter, I'm warning-!"

"_Stalker!_"

"_Shut up!" _Draco grabbed the face in front of him, pulling the messy haired head down towards him and crashing their lips together brutally. He ignored the grunt that the action elicited and forced Harry's mouth open. Sliding his tongue against Harry's hotly, he entangled his slender fingers into those messy black locks. Merlin, this... this... this was _fucking crazy_! It was nothing like any other kiss Draco had ever experienced... all these sensations; _Harry's _soft muscle gliding against his, _Harry's _long fingers trailing down his chest, _Harry's _lips as they moulded almost perfectly into his... They sent _electricity _through his veins and everything was _sharp _and _clear _and _blurry _all at the same bloody time... And God, his _heart_, his poor_, poor _heart...

Moaning lightly, he pulled away, drawing large amounts of the _stupid-oxygen-that-couldn't-wait-until-the-kiss-was-finished _into his collapsing lungs.

"So..." Harry looked at him, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. The emerald green eyes had darkened considerably and the Gryffindor's chest was heaving.

"So." Draco replied, trying hard not to think of what he had just done, _oh God _and _the horror _and _what the hell would his parents say?_

"...I still say you stalk me."

"_Shut up_!"

**_So, this was my first ever Harry/Draco fic- hope it's okay!  
Please review! :)  
It'll make my day :)_**


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